There's a show I've been watching called Widow's Bay, set on a seaside island with a long history of storms and fog, genuinely creepy in between the jokes, and with the best supporting cast I've seen since my favorite comedy of all time, Arrested Development.
Smut opened for Wet Leg at the Vic last Wednesday and didn't go on until nine, which meant a long wait after a long day. I'd stayed late at the office and grabbed something quick on the way over to make time pass. It did the opposite of what I needed.
I spent the wait sleepy, working out how much of the night I'd realistically stay for.
Then the room filled and I remembered I always feel this way until I'm actually there. Smut I'd been waiting on for a long time between gigs. Wet Leg I shot once, years ago, in a smaller room where I was still learning how to work in the dark and pushed the ISO further than I've ever pushed it since. Those photos are still on my re-edit list, grain and all.
The Vic's got good light. I'd been looking forward to shooting them in this room. And it was bright enough when Wet Leg came on, brighter than I expected, right up until the fog rolled in and kept rolling in. Most I've ever stood in. I've complained in posts about how dark other venues get more times than I'm proud of, but this was the reverse problem, my viewfinder gone to white and my autofocus hunting through it, pulling in and pulling back out and catching nothing. I gave up on it somewhere in the first song and just shot. Edges of silhouettes when the fog thinned, a shoulder, half a face, and a couple hundred frames of what I hope is a band.
While working through them, and in the middle of that pile of images, it came to me that Wet Leg are from the Isle of Wight. An island. A foggy island, and I sat there pleased with myself for about ninety seconds, certain I'd found the neat ending to all this, before looking it up and learning the Isle of Wight is one of the sunniest places in the UK.
So no clean ending on that one either.